


Black Cherry

by DoraTLG



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Asphyxiation, BDSM, Birthday Party, Bondage, Dom!Bond, M/M, Sexual Tension, Sub!Q, drinking game, strip club
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 15:41:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4793093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoraTLG/pseuds/DoraTLG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Never have I ever liked being dominated in bed."</p><p>Oh, he's gonna kill her. Oooooh, he IS going to kill her! Q stared at the black haired woman, trying to kill her with a glare, while no one was drinking. No one. He stared at her, unwilling to look around, unwilling to look at the man that was watching him, and then he raised the glass to his lips and drank all of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black Cherry

**Author's Note:**

> Soooooo. I haven't wrote anything in a VERY long time. That would be because I have a full time summer job and it's killing me. Manual labor and yesterday was my fist day after seventeen days in a row with 9 to 11 hours in work. BUT why am I telling you this? (because I feel like shit and want everyone to know) Because the day before I threw my first birthday party ever and it was great apart from the ending, which was quite different from this story, and the lesbian that was very actively trying to dominate me into bed, which I wouldn't mind, but as a demisexual it was very confusing. I mean, no, I don't want to sleep with you, but please pull my hair again and yes, pet me...  
> SO I came home, still thinking about it, and thought to myself - this would be so hot with Q and Bond. And yes, I might be very fucked up if this is what excites me more than an actual person actually doing those things to me, but... well. So many things from this story are actually what happened on Friday, just with a character who appreciated them much more than I did.  
> Now let's hope the person who I rejected will never find this, because that would be embarrassing as HELL.

Q was pretty nervous before it all started. This was the first time since uni that he threw a party, and God knows the people that were coming weren't his usual fellow students. But it somehow came to it that he had a birthday just around the opening of a new strip club just across his flat. So he invited some of his co-workers for pre drinks, which very quickly turned into a drinking game and then Never Have I Ever. And now there was eight people seated around his couch and on it, taking turns in making Q blush.

The problem really wouldn't be the game itself. Q wasn't one of the shy innocent types, and he wasn't that secretive with his sex life. Only he didn't know who would turn up with Eve - and he should've guessed, because really, Eve was sometimes the most inappropriate person alive. So when Bond knocked on the door, Q almost got a heart attack, and now the man was sitting across him in a chair, Eve on the armrest of said chair, and Q somehow ended up on the carpeted floor. 

And there were sexual questions out in the air, and anytime Q drank, he could feel the gaze of the double oh agent on him.

Surprisingly, he wasn't drunk yet. His drinks were mixers and weak ones, because he didn't like the taste of alcohol, but he was simply in a good mood, which was affecting his openness. The questions were mostly a harmless fun and he could live with a bit of a teasing. The only uncomfortable part was the blue eyes staring whenever he admitted to something he's done by drinking, and he had to admit he was tempted to watch the man back to find out how experienced he really was, but anytime he did look at him, those eyes would pierce his and he would quickly turn away, embarrassed.

"Never have I ever slept with a co-worker," said Emma, one of the techies. Eve and Bond both drank, and so did Q. He caught a few raised eyebrows.

"Daniel from accounting," he said simply. "Very nice guy."

That was why they never met again.

"I thought that's forbidden or something," John, security, asked.

"We're grown ups," Eve half smiled. "And what are they going to do, fire the Quartermaster, M's secretary and a double oh agent?" she pointed at Bond. "He blew up an embassy once!"

"Once?" Q asked, remembering more than just that. Bond had a smug smile on his face.

"OK, let's go on!" Peter, techie, looked at Eve, trying to get the game flowing. She tried to contain her smile in her glass before she spoke her mind.

"Never have I ever liked being dominated in bed."

Oh, he's gonna kill her. Oooooh, he IS going to kill her! Q stared at the black haired woman, trying to kill her with a glare, while no one was drinking. No one. He stared at her, unwilling to look around, unwilling to look at the man that was watching him, and then he raised the glass to his lips and drank all of it.

A few of his co-workers started fidgeting, trying not to stare or ask stupid questions. Q held Eve's gaze, and that shrew was smirking like she did the best deed of her life.

"Never have I ever had dangerous sex," Bond's voice cut the air and everyone looked at him with mild confusion. Eve drank - no surprise there, she used to be a field agent. Bond had a sip of his drink, of course, duh-huh. But those blue eyes stayed locked on Q, and Q had to actually think of it, and then, when he remembered how many times someone almost choked him to death, he drank as well. Bond smiled.

"OK, now the normal people of this gathering will drink, OK?" John was eying them like they were the weirdest ZOO animal ever. "And take a big sip, because this one is next," he pointed at Q. That made a few people laugh, Q amongst them.

"Never have I ever..." John started.

 

They got up about fifteen minutes later to go to the club. The women (apart from Eve) just wanted to see what it looks like in a strip club, but the men were mostly excited like little puppies. Well, besides Bond, of course, and Q, who could appreciate a woman's body, but wasn't that keen to get her to bed just for the woman herself.

"So how old are you now, Q? Eighteen?" Bond asked when they were walking down the street. He didn't take a coat, although it was the middle of December - he just came from a mission in Alaska. "Will they let you in?"

"You know, Bond, from how young you think I am, it's quite disturbing how you've been eying me the whole night. You sure you don't want to find yourself a date in the nearest college?"

He expected Bond would tease him back. He did NOT expect for the larger man to stare him down.

"Don't test me, Q," he said in a steely voice that made Q have goosebumps. "Behave."

It was kinda hard to breath after that. Q knew what the agent was trying to do, and honestly, he really couldn't decide if he wanted to play his game or not.

The club was loud and posh. The bouncer, in a very tight vest and without a neck, was studying their IDs in the outside light. Q would be very impressed if he saw how fake they are. They were seated on the side of the stage. The music was so loud they had to shout even if they were centimeters apart, and the drinks were more expensive than on Picadilly, but the dancers were hot. And when there were no dancers, they danced themselves, around the stage to the newest hits made techno, music Q never heard of, but that would be because he stopped clubbing years ago. He still knew how to dance though, and although he felt weird, soon it was easy to follow Eve's lead or just dance in the circle. He was very aware of the man currently dancing with Emma, who would obviously give her right hand for the opportunity to have him in her bed for at least one night. She was, alas, quickly stood up, when the said man pressed himself against Q's back.

"I didn't know you could dance," he could hear his voice in his ear, along with his hot breath. Somehow, Bond managed not to shout and still be heard.

Q turned to face him.

"There is many things you don't know about me."

He didn't feel the hand in his hair until it grabbed and pulled, and he was left speechless, his stomach on water.

"Cheesy," Bond growled, towering over him.

"Not more than your lines," Q couldn't stop himself. He knew he shouldn't. This isn't Daniel from accounting, this is a double oh agent, licensed to kill, this is... this is fucking hot.

The hand tightened and Q whimpered. Now his head was pulled back and Bond had to lean into his body to talk to his ear.

"Do you want to make me angry, Q? You don't need to provoke me. Just ask."

Will he? Should he? Well, it definitely isn't a good idea. It's just that it's so hard to think rationally when your cock is starting to harden and every breath makes you feel the exquisite feeling of arousal deep in your belly.

He kept his mouth shut. Bond eventually released him, sensing his hesitancy. Q had to sit down for a moment.

They didn't notice the state Theresa was in until it was too late. First they thought she's just really smashed and laughed at the creations she was making on the dance floor. It was just when Q caught her sitting down, her gaze empty, when he realized something is wrong. He crouched in front of her, trying to hold her gaze.

"Theresa? Are you alright?"

She shook her head. Bond appeared next to him, trying her vital functions.

"Do you need to throw up?" Q asked. She shook her head again.

"She's fine, just really drunk," Bond said. Q nodded.

"Are you sure you don't want to puke?" he asked again, knowing how that would get lots of the alcohol out of her system. She nodded, so they shrugged and let her be.

Ten seconds later, she puked all over herself and the carpet. Massively.

In the best interest of everyone, she was led out of the bar with Q and Bond holding her up. John came out with them, but Q just told him to carry on and get his jacket when they leave. The problem with Theresa though was that even if she was communicating now, she wasn't cooperating. Her biggest wish was to go home, alone, and all their attempts to help her were met with strong trashing. A car almost ran her over twice. She wouldn't even tell them her address, so in the end they decided to just get her into Q's apartment and be done with it.

It took them half an hour of persuasion and navigation to get her to the flat. For a while Bond tried to carry her, but she almost cracked her head on the pavement when she tried to get free. Finally she was lying on the couch with a bucket nearby and a cup of water on the coffee table. Sound asleep.

Q was cold. He had only his shirt on and the nights were really cold now. He was sitting on the coffee table when Bond put his own suit jacket on his shoulders and his hand ran into his curls and started a slow massage.

"Come on," Bond motioned to the bedroom. Q hesitated, but the hand in his hair felt too good for him to be completely against it.

"Bond..." he tried anyway.

"I will gag you, Q," Bond said and Q swallowed. That was a beautiful image.

He let himself be pulled to his feet and followed the bigger man into his own bedroom. He wondered if Bond was one of the types that would make him do everything on his knees, if he would play with him, enjoy the fact he can do anything he wants. He had nothing against doms like that, but he rarely felt up to it and mostly not if he was this tired. He just wished the other man would fuck him senseless, even quick, grip him so hard he'd have bruises, kiss him with such a fervor he draws blood...

Bond turned to face him as soon as they were in the bedroom, and shut the door behind him. He gripped his neck and pulled him closer to kiss him. It was a dirty kiss, tongues and spit and teeth, and Q immediately knew this was gonna be fun, because Bond was as rough in sex as on missions. He whimpered when the agent started to bite him, and pressed himself closer to him, his already hard cock finding the bulge in Bond's pants.

Bond broke the kiss and pushed him away.

"You stink," he said.

"You too," Q said. Bond slapped him.

"Cheeky little sod," he said. Q smirked. His left cheek was on fire. He loved it.

"Strip," Bond commanded and made a few steps back to sit on the bed. Q, still smirking, unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it aside before going for the zip on his pants. Bond watched him with a little smirk of his own.

"I said strip," he reminded and Q had to take a second to understand. When he did, he had to smile wide. He turned his back to Bond, cocked his hips, and slowly started swaying them as he stripped from the jeans, pushing them down until his arse was perched high, only in his boxers. He stepped out of the trousers and ran his hands along his legs, then cupped his cheeks and pulled them apart. He could hear Bond exhale.

"Come here," he said and Q straightened up, turned and stepped closer to him. Bond pulled him to sit on his lap, straddling him.

"That your innocent facade is nothing more than that, isn't it?" he mumbled as he traced the subtle muscles of Q's stomach. He could never be as big as the agent, but he never wanted to be - he only liked being liked and the strength working out gave him, so he went to the gym when he had the time. Now he was thanking all the gods for it, because he would feel completely miserable if a man like Bond poked into a soft, fat stomach.

Strong arms hugged him and suddenly he was on his back, the strong body pinning him to the mattress, and he was struggling to breathe when hot lips and sharp teeth grazed his neck. That didn't take long though - one second Bond was all over him, the other he sat up and Q groaned in disappointment until he saw why - Bond was pulling his belt from his trousers, and Q's whole body shivered in anticipation. When Bond touched him again, it was to pull him up higher on the bed, as easy as he would any lithe woman, and then he lifted up his hands to tie them to the head of the bed, which confused the quartermaster. He honestly thought the belt was for whipping, he always thought a belt could never tie hands effectively. The double oh agent proved him wrong now - he wrapped the belt around his wrists and secured them to the bed, then tightened it with a strong pull. The sensations quickly grew almost too much for Q - the burning feeling of the edges pushing into his skin, the cold leather pressing against his arms, his belly having a party and his cock going crazy... 

"Fuck me!" he whined. Bond laughed.

"Are you sure you want to wait that long?" he asked and pressed his fingers against Q's clothed arse for emphasis. Q knew what he meant - it would take ages to make him ready, but he couldn't think of anything that would make him satisfied right now more than a good pounding.

"Yes, please, fuck me..."

Bond didn't need more encouragement, he quickly grabbed Q's boxers and pulled them down. Q's breath hitched when the cool air hit his overheated cock.

And then Bond finally undressed himself.

Oh yes, this was the body that took at least a bullet a year. Q's mouth suddenly started salivating, the view was just perfect, he wanted to lick and kiss all the agent's muscles, wanted to know how they tasted - and he tried, tried to buck up to reach the broad chest, but the belt didn't let him and Bond laughed again and kept his distance. On one side, Q would be ashamed of how needy and childish he was being, but he learned long ago that that was hat he enjoyed the most, to let go and be someone's boy for the night, and he knew that his partners mostly understood. By the look on Bond's face, he was utterly enjoying it.

"Where do you keep lube?" he asked and Q had to take a moment to remember and then hold onto the thought for more than a second.

"Bedside table."

Bond stretched and retrieved it with a few thuds of wood. Q could hear the rustling of condom wrappers as well and a little part of himself felt like it finally breathed out after holding its breath for the whole time they were in bed.

"Spread!" he commanded when he was atop him again and Q complied happily. The first touch of lube made him gasp and clench, but he quickly relaxed and let Bond slip into him. No games now, no teasing, just quick, efficient moves that had him moaning both from discomfort and pleasure. Bond didn't wait until he was completely prepared for the second finger, and Q had to clench his teeth, because this really was just a needs must. More lube was added after every minute or so and soon the clenching sounds filled the room and Q listened to them with closed eyes. He actually always liked them. They were filthy, and he liked being filthy from time to time.

"Bond..." he started to mumble, repeating his name over and over again, with no reason more than to just hear it, and Bond didn't stop him. He half expected to be reprehended, told to call him James or something ridiculous as sir, which really didn't match this mood, but nothing followed his senseless mumbling.

Bond's third finger exited him and Bond seemed to hesitate for a moment, deciding what next.

"I'll be fine, just..." Q said and tried to lift his arse in an invitation, but Bond slapped it hard.

"I decide if you're fine," he said steely, but seconds later the condom wrapper rustled again and Q couldn't help himself but adore the look of concentration on Bond's face when he was putting it on himself. Then he was leaning above him and Q prepared for what was to come.

To be fair, he struggled with bigger cocks than this one in the past, but he quickly understood why exactly 007 was such a good catch in bed. His cock slowly but consistently pushed into him until Q could feel his balls against his tail bone - but only barely, his main focus was on the pain that bore through him. After a while, when the worst passed, he realized Bond's hand was in his hair again, petting, and the man was kissing him ever so gently, his lips, cheeks, chin, neck. It took a few moments, and when he could breath freely again, he nodded his consent for Bond to continue.

The first strokes were slow and still painful. This time though, he reciprocated the kisses and waited for the first sparks of pleasure he knew were going to come, and when they did, he started moaning his agreement and encouraged Bond to move faster. That was when Bond pulled out, flipped Q's whole body on his stomach and, before Q could start protesting against the abandonment, slid into him again and started pounding into him with fervor.

And that was why James Bond was the master of any bedroom. Because no matter the cleavage, to matter the technique, James Bond always knew what his partner wants without them ever telling, and right now Q was in seventh heaven, when the agent pushed him into the mattress and fucked him so hard he saw stars. His cock, limp until now, stirred again and was brushing against the sheets, and Q couldn't remember when was the last time he actually got hard while someone fucked him, and he must have forgotten how wonderful that feels. When the man's big hand went into his hair again, he let it push him nose-down into the pillow without fight. He reminded himself that this hand killed countless times and almost came.

Bond released him and pushed him down again many times during the fucking, and Q was lightheaded when Bond pulled out. He whimpered, still not completely satisfied. Bond turned him on his back and took both of their cocks into his wide hand, and Q started moaning. Bond's another hand came up to cover his mouth and nose again and his eyes rolled up into his head.

He came first, trying to gulp in the oxygen when Bond uncovered his mouth, and that made his orgasm that much stronger. Bond followed him seconds after, when Q was still in delirium. By the time Q finally came to himself, Bond already recovered and now was wiping them down with the tissues he found in the bedside table.

"Fuck..." Q mumbled and Bond chuckled.

"Give me twenty minutes and I will," he said. Q eyed him incredulously.

"Twenty minutes? I feel like twenty days. I think I get why all the ladies like you."

Bond hugged him loosely.

"Are you a lady, Q?" he asked with a smirk and Q nuzzled him contently.

"Anything you like," he purred and this time when Bond chuckled, Q could feel his affection.

"So how long do I have until the snappy genius comes back? Because as much as I like him, I doubt he would let me to this," and he licked Q's Adam's apple.

"Hmmm... I think he will let you do much more after tonight," he admitted and hoped there would be another time as much as he hoped there wouldn't. This man had the power and potential to absolutely destroy him.

"Q?" Bond lay beside him, arms wrapped around the lithe man.

"Hmmm?"

"Stop thinking and go to sleep."

"Hmmm."


End file.
